


Hail to the King

by zade



Series: kinktober 2020 (return of the kink) [2]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Bondage, Bukkake, Casting Couch, Cock Warming, Dubious Consent, Gags, Hate Sex, Humiliation, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sort Of, Threats of Violence, Verbal Humiliation, chapter one has:, chapter two has:, mild ballbusting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:08:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26942671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zade/pseuds/zade
Summary: this is where my kinktober fics for borderlands are going. probably going to be a mix of jack/tim and jack/rhys, and heavily non-con/dub-con ymmv
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands), Handsome Jack/Timothy Lawrence
Series: kinktober 2020 (return of the kink) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952587
Kudos: 29
Collections: Gay people (derogatory)





	1. Day 8: Bukkake and Casting Couches (and Humiliation)

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome back to the shit show
> 
> this is for day 8 of kinktober: casting couches and bukkake and is that
> 
> it also features humiliation, humiliation based on cock size
> 
> this exists in an au where timothy becomes a body double after jack is charge of hyperion don't at me

Timothy walks into the office and immediately regrets every decision that lead him to this moment. No, he thinks, steeling himself. His college debt is literally following him around the galaxy, and there are so few people whose genetic code is close enough to Jack's for this process to even work, he’d be stupid to pass up this opportunity.

The office is large and intimidating, with an oversized desk and an oversized throne masquerading as a desk chair. Handsome Jack is sitting in the chair with his legs crossed up on the desk and an intrigued look on his face.

“Welcome cupcake, and might I say you look awful. The techs told me making you into my doppelganger would be a piece of cake but looking at you?” He laughs. “Well, they don’t call me handsome for nothing, kitten.”

Tim isn’t sure whether he should be angry or embarrassed, or a little bit of the two. He opens his mouth to protest but the words die in his throat. This is Handsome Jack, the same Handsome Jack who shoved the entire catering staff out of an airlock after they burnt his toast.

“Which one are you, anyway? There was someone named—what? James? No. Jim? John? Jeremy?”

“Timothy,” Timothy interjects.

Handsome Jack yawns. “Boring. Gotta get you a more snappy name. Like Jack.” He swings his legs off the desk and jumps to his feet, walking around it and towering over Timothy even though they are about the same height. “Alright. Nuff chitchat. Lose the clothes.”

Tim blinks at him. “I—what?”

Handsome Jack looks significantly less patient than he did a moment before. “I’m sorry was I unclear or did they just send me a brainless body double this time? Clothes off, Timtam. And you know what? Kneel. Show me you’ve got the ability to follow my instructions.”

What choice does he have? Timothy could leave but it is equally likely that he can’t leave and that an attempt will end with him being suffocated or tossed into space or worse, tossed to Hyperion’s experiment of the week. He loses his clothes as quickly as he can, throwing them on the ground and barely resisting the urge to hold his hands over his crotch. After a long moment he remembers what Handsome Jack said and sinks to his knees. Jack had seemed to tower over him when he was standing, and it’s magnitudes worse on the ground.

“Good boy! Turns out you can understand about as many words as a dog. So, we’ll have to work on that kiddo, because you’re, ya know, supposed to be able to pass for me, not as my brain dead cousin.” Handsome Jack’s scrutiny is one million times worse than Tim guessed it would be and he’s regretting even going to college. “Okay. Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to be a certified Jack clone. Show me the goodies.”

As inadvisable as Timothy thinks it probably is to question Handsome Jack, he is genuinely unsure of what that’s supposed to mean. “Uh, Handsome Jack, uh, sir, I’m not sure what you want me to do, exactly.”

Handsome Jack crosses his arms across his chest and looks extremely unimpressed which is fair because anyone saying Timothy Lawrence was impressive was either lying or had painfully low standards. “There’s a lot of things the science boys can fix. That nasally little voice of yours for sure, give your face some better features—but there are some things science cannot yet recreate. A dick, for starters. So before I sign you on as a body double, I need to make sure that if you’re caught with your pants down no one will be the wiser, capiche?”

Tim could feel his dick shrinking under the pressure, but stood there all the same, letting Handsome Jack eye him up and down critically. “Ta-dah?”

Handsome Jack groaned in what was possibly the prelude to Timothy’s untimely death. “No, dipshit, get it hard. What I am supposed to get out of looking at your floppy little pink dick? For fuck’s sake, I’m beginning to think you’re too stupid for this after all. Weren’t you supposed to be a college graduate or something?”

Tim inhales deep, and then exhales slowly, reaching down to grasp his extremely limp cock. He gives it a few weak, dry, jerks and is unsurprised at his cock’s reluctance to rally. This has to be top five least sexy and top one most dangerous situations he’s ever been in and his dick is savvy. “C’mon,” he mutters, going it at it a little harder. He glances between Handsome Jack and his dick nervously. 

He’s not sure Handsome Jack has time for his dick issues.

Jack snorts. “Is it a grow-er or a show-er? C’mon, you can tell your ole uncle Jack.” He watches Tim closely for a few more moments as Tim’s cock refuses to get with the program, and then Handsome Jack’s eyes narrow. “Oh no no no, I get it! It’s a no-go-er. Have you ever had sex, Timmy? Ever been fucked?”

Timothy has some very logical sentences about privacy and worker’s rights and questions that are inappropriate to ask during a job interview, but then he remembers his hand is on his dick and he says, “No?” before he can stop himself.

Handsome Jack smirks. “All right then, mini-me, if you’re going to take a walk in Handsome Jack’s shoes, you gotta be able to walk the walk. And the walk is sex. Lemme give you a demonstration before the science nerds come around and scoop you up.”

Handsome Jack unzips his pants, and pulls out his dick. Tim isn’t really surprised that Handsome Jack doesn’t wear underwear, but he’s a little surprised. Jack jacks himself off with the sort of suave confidence that Timothy would expect of a man calling himself Handsome, and his dick is as large as his gigantic hand.

Timothy is not sure what he’s meant to be doing, and so he stays on his knees, staring up at Handsome Jack and wondering what would give him the best chance of actually getting the job. “I could suck you off?” Timothy offers weakly.

Handsome Jack laughs, still jacking himself off. “Nah nah nah, I’m not letting the first dick in your mouth be mine. Newbies are all teeth. But I’m sure the next time I see you you’ll have plenty of practice. All you body doubles can practice on each other.”

Tim blinks. “Did I…did I get the job?”

Jack laughs and cums all across Timothy’s upturned face. He closes his eyes against the onslaught, and then he can’t open them back up because they are covered. What’s he supposed to do now?

He hears Handsome Jack zip himself back up and then there are cuffs around his wrists and he can’t wipe it off his face. “Handsome Jack, sir?”

Handsome Jack laughs. “Just hang tight, gotta get the gurney up here, and I didn’t want you to change your mind. Running’s only fun when I want you to run, and I’m all tired out now. Oh, and I lied, they can replicate my dick just fine. Anyways, enjoy your surgeries! Buh-bye, kiddo.”


	2. Day Nineteen: Cockwarming and Hatesex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a rhys chapter! hurray?
> 
> this chapter has: cockwarming under a desk, bondage, hatesex/dubcon, gags, light crotch kicking, threats!
> 
> sorry?

in which rhys chokes on a cock and idk maybe dies who cares

If Rhys had been using one of his many, many brain cells he probably would have remembered how good Handsome Jack was with computers and not have offered to take a look under his desk to figure out what his network connection problem was. He pretty much deserves the kick to side Jack treats him to. He tries his best not to vom all over Handsome Jack’s shoes as he is manhandled around and shackled—shackled!—to the underside of the desk.

His first impulse is to ask why there are shackles under Handsome Jack’s desk, but on second thought he finds it kind of obvious. “Handsome Jack? Uh, sir?”

“Busy, cupcake,” Handsome Jack replies, tersely. He’s got a screwdriver in his mouth from what Rhys can see, and is in the process of attaching Rhys’s legs to the back corners of the desk.

“I was just wondering—”

“Busy. Cupcake.”

Rhys decides that quietness is the better part of valor and shuts up while Handsome Jack secures him to the underside of the desk. His arms are spread out straight, shoulders to the top of the desk and head hanging down, and legs stretched out until it feels like his weight is precarious and he’s much closer to falling and smashing his face on the floor than he probably is.  
When Handsome Jack crawls out from under the desk he’s got a smirk on his face and Rhys regrets every looking up to him in the first place. “Rhysie,” Handsome Jack says, tossing himself into his fancy desk throne—chair. “Daddy’s got a busy day today, and as I am in need of entertainment to keep me happy and productive, I have decided to request your services for the day. And as your boss, I also approved them.”

Rhys thinks he has a pretty good idea of where this is going but he’s not sure if asking will make it better for him or worse. “Okay, and those services are…?” he asks, because Rhys has never been very good at listening to the sensible parts of himself and he doesn’t see a reason to start now.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Handsome Jack chides. “Close your eyes. And open your mouth.”

There is almost nothing good that can come of this, but Rhys figures his chances might be doing whatever terrifically horrible thing Handsome Jack has in mind or die, and Rhys would really rather not die today, so he closes his eyes and opens his mouth. He’s a little surprised at the gag, but only a little. It’s thick and metal and he assumes black and yellow, and it holds his mouth in a nice big circle, perfect for someone (and he’s not naming names here) to put his cock in. Jack hooks it on something and then Rhys’s head is fixed in place, and really, why did he expect anything different.

“So much better looking! Jeez pumpkin, who’da thunk you’d look so much better when you can’t back talk me or stab me in the back? It’s a good look for you, truly.” He pats Rhys on the head, and Rhys is filled with impotent thoughts of murder. Not that he’d get away with it, but it’s a pleasant daydream.

His jaw hurts and his nose itches, but Rhys knows better than to fight back or ask for favors at this point. Better to let Handsome Jack get his rocks off and live to see another day. 

“Now then. I have a bunch of meetings and I’m just not feeling it today, ya know? So, I figured, since you owe me big time, I’m going to let you beg for forgiveness around my cock. Strap in, kiddo.”

Rhys, literally strapped in, growls. It only serves to make Handsome Jack laugh, though, which just makes him feel madder overall. Jack scoots his chair in, and when he’s close enough that Rhys is staring down directly at the crotch of Jack’s jeans, he undoes the zipper, slowly. Handsome Jack’s cock is heavy and thick and longish, and Rhys may have dreamt about this sometimes, but usually the situation surrounding it was a little less…forced.

Handsome Jack gives his cock a few absent tugs, and then scoots in even further. “Keep it warm for me,” he says, and shoves his cock into Rhys’s open mouth. Rhys gags, eyes watering under the assault, but he can’t move. He’s pinned to the desk, pinioned, and held tightly. He gags again and Jack hushes him, adjusting his jacket so you can’t tell his pants are open. “Hush. I have meetings, and if you ruin it for me, I’ll make sure they put ‘suffocated to death on a cock’ on your fucking death certificate.”

Rhys knows exactly what he means, but takes a moment to be in denial anyway before he hears the doors open and tenses. He pulls hard against the shackles, but there’s nowhere to go. He’s stuck. Jack cants his hips upwards and Rhys chokes again, Handsome Jack barely covering it with a cough. He’s not sure how he’s meant to be stuck like this and not gagging, but he also doesn’t want to die.

He tries his hardest to relax his throat, but it’s hard at this angle, and Jack is not trying to help at all, giving subtle little thrusts into Rhys’s throat, and reaching out his foot to kick at Rhys’s half-hard cock more times than can be called an accident. He’s chalking it up to a danger boner because he’s not sure he’s ever hated Handsome Jack more than he does in this moment. Jack kicks him again, harder, and he yelps, even if it’s mostly smothered by Handsome Jack’s frankly enormous cock.

“R&D, excellent, tell me things that will make me happy,” Handsome Jack says, cheerfully. “And ignore any noises you might hear. I heard there was a ratch infestation in the vents. Don’t worry, we’re getting an exterminator later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello im gabe racetrackthehiggins and i take requests if ur nasty

**Author's Note:**

> hello i am gabe racetrackthehiggins and this sure was something


End file.
